


Holding On

by demonessryu



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Beards, Depression, Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M, Making Up, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Secret Relationship, in every sense of the word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonessryu/pseuds/demonessryu
Summary: When Roger stopped arguing with him, Brian knew something was wrong.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68
Collections: Maylor Week





	Holding On

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of opinions about Brian’s beard (personally, I’m not a fan, but that’s beside the point) but he’s said in Queen 3D that he grew it because album making was so stressful so he kind of neglected personal grooming etc. It’s kind of a serious topic, but I’m also a pretty devoted shipper, hence: this fic. I’m sorry, Dr. May.
> 
> Prompt: Misunderstanding

Something was wrong.

This should be the happiest time of Brian’s life – and for a while it had been. When Roger asked him out for dinner, Brian had been over the moon. He had been so pleased, in fact, that he had completely forgotten about Roger’s past reputation, only remembering it when it was pointed out to him (by ever-helpful Freddie and ever-amused John) that Roger hadn’t even glanced at any woman since their lovely first date. Things had changed for the better. Despite numerous historical precedents, they were committed to each other, determined to make them work regardless of what the world had to say. But, then something had gone terribly wrong.

Once the bliss and excitement had slightly subsided (as much as it could subside, considering Roger was involved), Brian became aware of how quiet his life had become. There was no longer any jab at his person, light teasing or even disagreement. Roger was awfully quiet. He didn’t even raise his voice at Brian anymore when in the past Brian’s mere presence was enough to inspire him to raise his volume. Now he was nothing but sweet and charming, speaking in soft voice that brought a smile to Brian’s lips, yet had begun to make him slightly uneasy. The closest he had gotten to sign of annoyance was a loud sigh. Roger was now agreeable, gentle, attentive and kind, everything he hadn’t been before and in a way he _shouldn’t_ be. It was too good to be true, too good to not be a symptom of a problem, too good to not be a sign of terrible things to come. So, Brian held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Some would call the change in Roger an improvement, but Brian hesitated to agree. He had seen Roger in love. Nothing and no one could alter his personality. He was loud, opinionated, moody and impatient. These had barely changed in front of his girlfriends, only softening slightly around the edges as he allowed them to push him around a little more than he would normally allow other people. But, he had been and would always be the same person. Love, fame and time wouldn’t change him – drastically anyway – because he always knew who he was and he was determined to be nothing less than that. Brian wouldn’t flatter himself by thinking _he_ , of all the people Roger had dated, could change that.

Of course Brian couldn’t really be compared with Roger’s past lovers. For one, they had a long history. He wasn’t just a pretty face that caught Roger’s eyes in the crowd. They knew each other very well, as attested by their countless arguments and their refusal to separate at the end of each of them. Brian had never found such similar mind and great loyalty in anyone, and he believed Roger felt the same, although these understandings were never spoken. There was a bond between them that had been forged by fire before they decided to take the unexpected step of becoming lovers, a bond that none of Roger’s previous girlfriends had. For two, Brian was Roger’s first male lover. He had never been interested in any man before. In fact, it still sometimes surprised Brian that Roger looked at him with the slightest bit of attraction. Roger’s interests tended to be fixed, but somehow something had made him see Brian in a different light. Brian could never figure it out and Roger always refused to explain beside with shrugs and sweet kisses. It was flattering as much as it was worrying. Roger was unchanging, after all. What if he had realized his mistake to follow a whim and changed his mind?

This wasn’t usually how Roger behaved when he thought of ending a relationship, however. Brian had seen him when his interest waned. He wouldn’t be unusually calm like this. He would be a little more irritable, although he never failed to try to work things out, always trying to maintain his commitment to the end, taking the lucky girl out on dates and vacations or spending time with her until he couldn’t deny that there was really nothing else that could be done but go on their own ways. And of course, by then there was usually already someone else that had caught his interest, someone he would openly shower all his affection and attention to once the previous girlfriend was out of the picture. But, there wasn’t any such person – at least as far as Brian knew and Freddie and John reported. His own careful attempts at questioning had been met with a frown and plans for lunch and dinner dates – distractions that in no way made him feel better about the situation.

If Brian must guess when it had started, it would’ve been when they started recording their latest album. In the past, Brian had never spent a single day in a studio with Roger without Roger shouting at him for one reason or another. It wasn’t that Roger was being deliberately difficult or hostile. Certainly, Brian himself was far from perfect. There were in fact more than enough matters to be upset about. There were the understandable bias in defending and promoting their own works, opinions and thoughts they believed better than the others’, and the general stress of making something that should be as good as if not better than their previous works, among other sources of discontent. These were stressful, even upsetting, but these were also expected parts of their creative process. Queen was a band consisting of four people with big personalities, but Roger arguably had the biggest personality and stubbornness and it was a well-known fact that he found both a target and match in Brian. So, when they started working, Brian had expected a repeat of this battle, had in fact steeled himself to not be moved from his opinions. Instead, Roger was quiet with no sign of his usual quick temper. Brian was baffled and then frightened.

After years of being the main target of Roger’s unpredictable anger, it was strange that now that it was gone, Brian wanted it back. But, things had been different in the past. They hadn’t been together and Brian had only loved him from the distance. Every fight had served as a reminder why it had been impossible for Roger to see him as a potential lover. It had cut – deeply – although Brian had learnt to get over it quickly with a harsh reminder of the stupidity of harboring hope in the first place. Now that they were really together, the lack of fight seemed to be a warning of something far more painful than unreciprocated feelings. He had tasted happiness – pure, unadulterated happiness – when Roger asked him out, held his hand, and kissed him. He had now known how it felt to wake up with Roger beside him, to share thoughts and views they wouldn’t normally share with each other, and to be on the receiving end of his passion and affection. He had experienced the bliss of reaching his secret dreams. He couldn’t let them be taken away from him, couldn’t survive the pain of happiness and contentment ripped away from him after he held them for just a few short dreamy months. He couldn’t live without Roger’s love, not when his heart that had been Roger’s from the start finally knew the feeling of being tenderly accepted. Yet, every day that went by without Roger picking a fight with him seemed to indicate toward an inevitable demise of their relationship and irreparable breaking of his heart.

It was a crushing thought, although this seemingly inevitable reality wasn’t here yet. Brian tried to pay it no mind and focused on working, but it didn’t always succeed. Roger was always difficult to ignore, especially now that Brian began and ended his day with a kiss from him and spent the rest of the hours of the day openly leaning close to him instead of holding back. Every idle second was filled with worsening speculations of what might be waiting for his and Roger’s relationship. And work wasn’t the only thing affected by his anxiety. Brian absently scratched his growing beard. He had neglected shaving again, the combined stresses of recording a new album and figuring out what was going on in Roger’s mind had gotten into him. He felt himself sinking into that familiar black pool of nothingness. In fact, Brian had had a few bad days when he could barely drag himself out of bed, let alone to the studio. Roger had been beside him throughout, even offering to cancel their schedules until Brian felt better. He was so good to him, watching over him without suffocating him, encouraging him without pushing him. Brian, in those flashes of not drowning in the black abyss, realized how lucky he was and how much he loved Roger (with all his heart, body and soul, although he couldn’t feel them very well at that moment). This made it even more difficult to think that he could lose it all, that he might return to his lonely life and watch only from afar as Roger’s life resume without him. And Roger’s life would resume without him. He wasn’t the sort to stop living just because of a person, no matter how well they got along. Maybe Brian wasn’t as special as he had thought. Maybe he wasn’t at all different from the girls Roger had left. Maybe he would soon be one of the people he got tired of.

Desperate to keep Roger or at least assure himself that everything wasn’t as bad as his mind tried to convince him, Brian did the only thing he could think of: picking fights with Roger. It wasn’t like it was difficult to do. They knew each other very well. Brian knew the exact things that would rouse Roger’s ire. It was all too easy for Brian to play the guitar in a way Roger disliked, oppose to his songs, criticize his choices in how to play his drums, and propose new things Roger disliked. But, aside from deep sighs and reproachful responses, Roger still managed to remain mostly calm. The closest he had gotten to being angry was when he left the studio, claiming he was hungry and wanted to get early lunch. Brian had deliberately slowed down his guitar playing over and over again and outright rejected any of Roger’s idea for improvement. Even Freddie had decided to seek shelter in the control room, leaving Brian and Roger to sort it out between themselves. But, his precaution was for nothing. Roger just gave Brian and sharp look from behind his dark glasses and left. The fact that he didn’t bother to ask Brian to go with him or whether Brian wanted something spoke volumes of how angry he was. To Brian, it seemed to mean something else: Roger couldn’t be bothered to reconcile with him. Roger had given up on him. Roger was leaving him.

Roger had only gone a moment when Brian’s guilt and fear fully sank in and he realized the possible consequences of his desperation. Usually, Brian knew that at the end of the day, no matter what had happened, they were still and would always be good friends, but not this time. This time Brian was plagued by uncertainty. Things were already so precarious. Roger was already drifting away from him. What if this was the last straw, the final shove that pushed Roger to the tipping point and made him leave him? Brian paced around the studio with these terrible thoughts in his mind. No one could calm him, not even Freddie’s quiet words of reassurance. He was near his breaking point, just at the brink of following Roger to apologize – in public if necessary – when Roger returned. The relief of seeing him again, of knowing that Brian hadn’t been abandoned, was instant and almost overwhelming. Brian spent the rest of the day apologizing and taking care to do exactly as he was instructed, desperate to please Roger in any way he could. His anxiety was only partially lifted when Roger offered him a ride home, an offer Brian accepted most gratefully. He was absolutely relieved when he held Roger tightly in his bed that night, glad that he hadn’t messed up too badly and lost the person that mattered the most in his life. Or at least not yet. Brian slept with his arms around his love, afraid to let go for even a moment while he was granted permission to hold. That day Brian learnt that Roger’s silent anger was far scarier than his loud one.

Brian learnt his lesson and, properly frightened and chastised, vowed not to be so deliberately difficult in the studio again. However, he was still very uneasy. Once his quiet rage passed, Roger was back to his strangely mild self and Brian was at his wit’s end trying to find out what was wrong. He didn’t want to pick another fight, fearing that this time when Roger left to calm himself, he wouldn’t return. But, it was also the only way he could think of to bring back the easy relationship they once had. Roger had been a (seemingly) perfect lover, but Brian missed his sharp-tongued man he could count on for honesty and to bring him back to earth when he was wrapped up in his mind. Completely distraught by the foreboding mildness, Brian decided to make one last attempt before he confronted Roger about it. The conversation could be unpleasant – their upbringings prevented them from openly discussing their thoughts and feelings. Brian was frankly uncomfortable about the prospect of sitting down and talking, and he imagined Roger would feel the same. However, awkward conversation was a much better alternative than a life without the love of his life and the best friend he had ever had. Unless it was too late to make things better and everything was already over and Roger was leaving him. But he had to try- _must_ try. He would beg Roger if he must to give him another chance. He’d promise anything he could give, give up anything he had if so asked. He still didn’t know what he had done wrong, but he was willing to do anything to do better for them. This might hurt, but no matter how harshly Roger spoke, his words didn’t cut as deeply as his silence. So, Brian took a deep breath and braced himself.

The weekend after the regretful not-fight, Brian invited Roger to his home. It was a common enough invitation. They could only go on dates when they had female companions to help them avoid annoying headlines, although with the current state of Brian’s facial hair, they might be able to go out unrecognized. However, while spending time in the town could be fun, having no privacy was decidedly less so. Their companions were sworn to secrecy, but there were still things so private neither Brian nor Roger were willing to speak them before anyone. They would go when claustrophobia set in, but most of the time they stayed in the privacy of their homes where they didn’t have to hold back and could follow the natural courses set by their hearts. These evenings were nothing fancy, just light conversation with the company of the steady hum of the telly and a bottle or three of wine, but Brian still cherished these stolen moments. There was comfortable domesticity there that made his heart swell with happiness and contentment, that calmed his racing heart and slowed his hectic mind. Being with Roger made him feel at home regardless of the venue they chose. It could be Roger’s country house, Brian’s modest home, or a hotel room – even the damn street if a lucky media managed to turn the public’s opinion against them. As long as Roger was beside him, smiled to him and found ways to annoy him, he would be content. However, Brian wasn’t content now even though Roger was right next to him, thoughts of possible break up weighing down on him.

“What do you think about John’s new song?” Brian began when he sensed that Roger had relaxed, a glass of wine twirled lazily in his hand.

Roger shrugged. “It’s nice. Not exactly rock ‘n’ roll, though.”

Brian nodded, fully agreeing. He was more of a disco man, their John, although he was ready and willing enough to adapt to their democratically chosen genre. This evening, it was his peculiar interest that Brian intended to use to his end. He shifted uneasily, not liking confrontation but desperate for one for the sake of getting the familiar old Roger back and then hopefully keeping him. He was all the more aware now, seconds away from executing his plan, of how it could terribly backfire. This could go very wrong. This could be the fight that ended everything. It wasn’t too late to change his mind. But, looking at how calmly Roger spoke, how little he reacted to something he disliked, made Brian’s stomach twisted. Something was wrong and he wanted to set it right and go back to how it used to be: kisses and glares, embraces and fights, sweet love and sour hate – relationship the only way it could ever be between Roger and himself.

“I notice you don’t like that.”

“Neither do you,” Roger pointed out, glancing away from the screen to him knowingly.

“Well,” Brian said sheepishly. Roger knew him too well to be lied to and he was a poor actor to begin with, so he didn’t try to deny it. “It’s not for me. Freddie likes it, though.”

“Well, Freddie’s wrong,” Roger calmly retorted, turning his attention back to the TV. “No guitar break?” He scoffed. “We’ll convince them to add one next Monday.”

Roger casually put his hand on Brian’s knee in assurance and it was impossible for Brian to not feel a little giddy. Only a few months ago, they would’ve avoided physical contact, barring quick hugs. There was always a pull between them that they hadn’t been brave enough to acknowledge, both of them had been afraid of what might’ve happened if they had lingered a little too long, touched a little too gently, looked a little too honestly. But, now there wasn’t any such reservation. Roger touched him easily as if they had done it forever, as if this had always been natural between them. The fact that it _did_ feel natural was yet another evidence of how what they had was something special neither of them had ever had. Something special Brian felt was slipping away from his shaky grasp.

“Actually, I may have an idea on how we can improve that,” he started slowly. When Roger responded with a noncommittal hum, Brian took a deep breath and continued, “maybe we should try using a drum machine.”

Brian could see the exact moment anger flared inside Roger: a flash of heat crossing his entire body, lighting up his eyes. But, far from recoiling as he used to, now Brian leaned into it, eager to be burnt. Roger was tense, prepared for a fiery argument. The hand on Brian’s knee curled to dig shallowly, but there was no further reaction, although Brian knew Roger was no longer paying attention to what was on the screen. It was so close to what Brian wanted, so close to regaining what they used to have, so close to being kept by Roger again, but not quite. Roger was still too quiet, still too calm. Brian wanted him shouting in anger and challenging his absurd suggestions. Brian wanted him enraged. Brian wanted- _needed_ him back even if it mean he would be hurt. Nervous but hopeful, Brian pressed his luck.

“It is a disco song, after all. It _will_ sound better without actual drums.”

For a moment, Brian was sure he would succeed. What could be a worse offense than telling Roger to not play his instrument? Roger loved drumming as much as Brian loved playing the Red Special. It was his choice of mode of rebellion, his voice for self-expression. Now, Brian proposed to take it away from him. Brian could see that Roger was seething, gritting his teeth in barely concealed fury. This was usually where he would start shouting at Brian or destroyed his drum kit if he was on stage. Roger would never harm anyone, but it was still frightening to have him spitting enraged words in escalating volume. He was an unstoppable force and Brian admitted that he was never quite bold or stubborn enough to withstand it, always folding in the end. At this moment, no matter how desperate Brian was to hear his angry voice again, he knew it was time to shut up, so he did with bated breath, looking at Roger hopefully, praying that he had said all the wrong things right and they would be back to the way they were.

But, Roger only exhaled loudly and took a big gulp of his wine. “Sure, if that’s what you want,” he said tersely through clenched teeth. “I’ll take over the keyboard or something.”

Brian’s heart sank. There wasn’t even any attempt to argue. Roger didn’t even try to talk him out of the ridiculous proposal. It felt like a death sentence or even the execution itself. It felt like the end that Roger didn’t care to pick at Brian’s brain like he didn’t care anymore, like he surrendered, like he had no hope to make them work again. It felt like he had given up on Brian, on them. It hurt. It cut. It tore. Brian choked, his broken heart torn painfully in his chest. His mind frantically turned to every little offense he had made in order to irritate Roger and how they had culminated to this last major affront. There were many and stacked together they were absolutely awful – Brian was absolutely awful when Roger had been nothing but good to him. How could Roger not lose interest in him when he was this terrible? How was Roger supposed to maintain any kind of affection when Brian antagonized him? It would be right for Roger to want to leave him, but Brian didn’t want to let him go. He still loved him, still was madly completely absolutely in love with him, still wished to hold him and be held by him, still longed to make him smile, still wanted to be the one to hear his innermost thoughts, still the craved the tenderness shown to no one else but him, still was willing to give anything if his heart wasn’t enough an offering. Brian’s desperation for anger turned to desperation for forgiveness. He put his hand over Roger’s and his heart lurched painfully when Roger pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” Brian apologized hastily. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

But, he had meant to, hadn’t he? Roger knew him too well to buy that sorry excuse. He looked away, jaw still tense as he waved his hand. “It’s fine. Let’s do it your way,” he said, anger lacing every syllable that cut right through Brian.

“No. Roger, please.” Brian managed to grab Roger’s arm. He tugged it maybe a little too hard, but he needed Roger to look at him. When he finally did, it was with cold disappointment. None of the hot fire of anger now and this was worse. The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s indifference. Brian swallowed the lump in his throat. His hand began to tremble, but he didn’t let go. Until the very last moment, until there truly was no hope for them, he would never let go. “I’m really sorry. I really didn’t mean what I said. I’m just…” He stopped, unsure how to explain in a way that wouldn’t incriminate himself further. This was bad enough. How could this get any worse?

Roger looked at him coldly for a moment, frightening in his silent rage. When Brian continued to struggle for words, he sighed and properly turned toward him. “You’re just not being yourself. I’ve known that for a while,” he said in a milder tone than before that made Brian feel even more heartsick.

“I’m not,” Brian admitted, his voice shaking a little. He bowed his back, trying to make himself smaller out of habit. “I’ve been trying to piss you off.”

“Well, mission fucking accomplished,” Roger spitted out (more like himself, although Brian couldn’t presently appreciate it) before he got a grip of himself. “Why?”

Brian hesitated, but then what was the point of the deflecting the problem again? It had taken him nowhere and probably would never take him anywhere. It was time to talk, to try to understand and hope that there was still a chance for improvement. And if he had smashed things beyond repair? Brian’s grip tightened on Roger’s arm slightly before he made himself relax. If Roger wanted to leave after Brian’s multiple fuck ups, he shouldn’t stop him, no matter how it would hurt. And it would hurt. So much. He tried to convince himself that returning to their friendship or at least work relationship would be enough. But, it wouldn’t be enough. To be near Roger and knowing he had had and lost the privileges to touch him, kiss him, love him would be no less than torture. Brian took a deep trembling breath, but oxygen did nothing to recede the pain in his heart of heart.

“It’s just that you’re never angry at me anymore. We don’t argue anymore and no matter what I do or say, you barely react. You don’t even make fun of me or tease me. You’re not yourself,” Brian finally admitted.

Roger frowned. “You want me to pick fights with you?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, no.” He stopped, thinking, and amended himself. “Well, kind of. It would be like before. We used to argue all the time. You used to find ways to challenge my ideas and as much as it was annoying sometimes, it was also nice. No one fight me like you do, challenge me to prove myself like you do. You make me better – or at least try to be better. I want to be better for you. But, now you just blindly agree with whatever I do and say like you don’t care anymore. Something’s not right, but I don’t know what’s going on.” Brian swallowed and looked at Roger imploringly. “What did I do wrong?” he asked in a small voice.

Roger looked at him in silence for a very long time that Brian started to fidget. Eventually, he pursed his lips and leaned back heavily against the backrest of the sofa. “You grow a beard.”

Brian touched his beard, suddenly too aware of its presence on his face. His mind spun horrific possibilities at speed of light, each more terrible than the last. Roger had always been conscious of fashions and such like. Naturally, he would expect the same from his partner and yet Brian had failed and neglected to groom himself, let himself go, let himself get lost in his own problems and forgot to look good. He had failed in the most basic way he could be a good lover for Roger. He had failed to make himself look attractive next to him. Did Roger not like the beard? Did it make him lose interest? Did it remind him that Brian was the wrong gender for him to love? Did it make him stop wanting Brian? Did it make him stop loving Brian? Did he change his mind about Brian? _Had_ he changed his mind about Brian? Had it ended after all? It might not have before, but after everything Brian did to upset him on top of his negligence, what if…

Roger eyed Brian warily, lips twisted down in unhappiness. “You only grow a beard when you’re not in a good place.”

“What do… _oh_.”

Brian gaped at Roger. Air rushed back into his lungs so suddenly that he felt dizzy. But, maybe that was the effect of realization as everything fell into place, of every confusion and mystery solved. After months of speculations, he understood now why Roger’s behavior had started to change since they started making their latest album. After all these years of working together, of course Roger knew the symptoms, knew what the stress of arguments and uncertainties did to him. Even if he hadn’t noticed before, he must have realized it when he saw how Brian struggled to leave the bed some mornings, how his mind slowed down and how he must force himself to go on. He remembered now how Roger always held back when he was having one of his bad days. He didn’t speak as harshly or try to pick fights as often. He wasn’t the sort to try to cheer Brian up or physically take care of him, but he always look after Brian in his own ways. And had he not even offered to cancel work for him? Roger was a dedicated professional despite his reputation and yet he had offered to cancel work plans to allow Brian to feel better. That gesture alone meant something significant. Brian had seen it, yet failed to see it for what it was, so lost in his fear of losing his love that he never considered the possibility that he _was_ loved.

“I didn’t realize,” Brian admitted timidly. “I thought it was something else.”

“What did you think it was?”

Brian avoided Roger’s eyes and slowly released his arm. His desperation was now replaced by guilt as he recalled the difficulties he had put Roger through just because he had made assumptions. Roger had really been a perfect boyfriend to him and what had he done in the meantime? He had been terrible just because he couldn’t see what was plain to the eyes, because he had doubted himself, Roger, and thus what they had. “I thought you might’ve changed your mind and not wanted to be with me anymore.”

The sudden grip Roger had on his hand, firm and steady, surprised Brian. His fingers found the spaces between Brian’s with the ease of a long friendship turning into deep love. “You really thought I’d leave you now that I’ve finally got you?” he asked earnestly with no sign of good humor he often displayed. These were words, unfiltered, not from the mind but the heart. Brian had only been subjected to such sincerity once, when Roger drove him home one night and told him he loved him for the first time. Like that night, Brian blinked at him mutely. Also like that night, Roger rolled his eyes, impatient and maybe a little self-conscious. “ _God_. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

Nothing Brian had learnt from his teachers and textbooks could prepare him for dealing with Roger Taylor as a friend, let alone as a lover, but he kept this thought to himself. He suspected Roger already knew anyway. Brian never quite knew how to deal with him, continuously surprised by his thoughts and actions, always excited for what Roger would introduce to him next. That was why Brian was continually drawn toward him. Roger was an aberration in his otherwise organized life, an unpredictable force that continuously swept Brian off his feet. Without his wild dreams and optimism, Brian wouldn’t dare to step out of the fixedness of science. Without his self-assurance, Brian wouldn’t dare to act on thoughts he had tried to suppress. Without his affection, Brian would be lost in in the dark depth of anhedonic lack of self-preservation. Now, here he was, somehow a rock star and a man who had found the love of his life, somehow a man who had almost everything he could ever want because Roger was beside him. And he had thought the worst of him and mistreated him.

“I’ve never seen you like that before. I didn’t know what it could be.”

“You didn’t think it could be because I love you?”

“No,” Brian admitted guiltily. “Sorry.” Old advices about the importance of trust in relationship rang in his head. He was still surprised that Roger could love him at all, but it was no excuse to doubt him to the point of antagonizing him for weeks. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for Roger’s rightful anger. He no longer looked forward to it now, but he knew he deserved it. Brian wasn’t so proud that he wouldn’t apologize and humbly take his punishment. As long as Roger forgave him in the end, he wouldn’t mind any amount of shouting, scowls or biting words. As long as he could still have Roger, he would take anything.

Beside him, Roger grumbled. “You can stand to be a bit more optimistic,” he complained. “When do I not let you know when I’m unhappy about anything, least of all you?”

Brian thought hard on it and found that, indeed, in their complicated history Roger had always let him know when he had done something to displease him. In fact, everyone within hearing range had always known. When they started their relationship, before the misunderstanding began, Roger had continued to do so, criticizing Brian and complaining loudly when he perceived something was wrong. The intensity of their arguments might have decreased with the development of romance, but the fact that Roger wasn’t shy about sharing his opinions remained. Even _after_ the misunderstanding, Roger still indicated his displeasure, albeit in a subtler way of removing himself from the situation. Roger always showed Brian when Brian had upset him, but he had shown nothing but complete devotion and stayed by Brian’s side throughout. He had never been displeased with Brian, never lost his interest, never lost his passion, never lost his love. It had been all in Brian’s anxious mind.

Maybe Brian’s expression indicated this dawning realization because Roger looked at him which slightly arched eyebrow. “I never hold back on you and I don’t plan on starting now,” he declared firmly.

This wasn’t just about the ridiculous confusion. Brian’s heart thrilled when he realized that Roger was talking about their relationship in its entirety: the good times and bad times, fights and agreements, giving and taking, compromising and being more whole in turn. Roger didn’t get angry by half, but he didn’t love by half, either. He had chosen to love Brian and he loved Brian fiercely, loyally, and deeply. Just as Roger had stayed by his side when all indications pointed toward failure of their musical dreams, so would he stay now through Brian’s doubts and difficult moments, through fights and arguments, because just as he always believed there was a bright future for Queen, he always believed there was happiness for them. Brian hadn’t realized he had doubts about the future they shared until they were completely removed and he saw what he _believed_ Roger saw: year and years and year and years of them hand-in-hand and side-by-side.

Overwhelmed by love he thought he had lost, Brian squeezed his hand. “I expect nothing less.”

“I can see that,” Roger said dryly.

“I guess I need it louder, clearer,” Brian conceded.

“Well, good! I’ve been meaning to tell you I _hate_ how you play in some of our songs!” Roger exclaimed loudly.

Then, he studied Brian closely as if expecting a breakdown and Brian recognized the looks he had received for the past weeks, the ones he had interpreted as displeasure but actually expressed love and concern. But, he needn’t worried. Brian didn’t break. Despite his dark moments, he wasn’t as fragile as Roger had feared, made of the same steel that made up Roger. He could take disappointment, could handle discontent. Roger’s words didn’t and would never break him, instead turning him into something tougher. Right now, he could feel it, love burning in his chest, a forge that kept him living, a crucible that strengthened him, and it was all because of the man beside him. “Perhaps if you aren’t always in such a hurry to get to the end of the song, you’ll see what I mean.”

“Oi!” Roger exclaimed, straightening up as if he was going to give one of his long rants, but then drawing Brian close to kiss him tenderly instead, soft lips and firm hands. When he broke the kiss, he didn’t let Brian pull away, keeping him close so Brian could see – could _really_ see – the gentle affection he directed to no one else but him. Brian had been so focused on his out of character behaviors that he had ignored this. Now that he was reminded, now that he finally noticed again, he knew with absolute certainty that this wasn’t a transient fling or temporary romance, this was relationship a long time in the making and it was there to stay, kept steady and alive between their beating hearts. “You don’t really mean it about John’s song, though, do you?”

Brian chuckled, his free hand finding its place on Roger’s waist, and shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

Roger rolled his eyes. “Good. I was thinking I might have to go on a wine tour across Europe if you’d meant it.”

As if Brian wouldn’t find excuses to follow him if he ever did. “We’ll tell John and Freddie we don’t like it, though we’ll have to come up with a strong argument – they really do like it.”

Roger waved his free hand. “Eh. We’ll think about it later – we have the whole weekend to come up with something. Now,” he grazed his fingers over Brian’s beard. A tiny part of Brian was still nervous that he didn’t like it, but it evaporated when Roger looked at him with eyes glinting with familiar wickedness and affection. There was a flutter in Brian’s chest when he saw how he was wanted and loved by the man who had stolen his heart from the first glance. He could never let that go and unlike in those uncertain days that had just very recently ended, now he was absolutely sure he would _never_ have to let it go. “I’ll show you how much I _definitely_ still want you with me,” he announced.

Brian laughed, embarrassed but eager despite himself. “Sure, if you want,” he agreed.

Roger’s expression gentled but was no less sure. In Brian’s hand, his grip was strong and warm. “I want.”

On Monday morning, Brian took a razor and under Roger’s watchful eyes shaved the beard. It felt a little strange to have it gone, although he had barely noticed it in the weeks he had kept it. He was more than aware that it might return before they managed to finally finish the album, but he wasn’t too worried. Roger was beside him, with him, and when he kissed him, it was with love, and when he talked to him it was not to break his heart. Brian embraced him just before they left for the studio. He buried his face in Roger’s hair, inhaled his clean scent, enjoyed the warmth of him, and basked in the contentment of being held in return. They shared one last kiss before Roger opened the front door and their fingers brushed in one last reassuring touch before they headed to their respective cars. Temporarily, they were parted, but Brian’s heart was full and content and he drove to the studio ready to take on his other band mates, take on the country, take on the world, take on the universe, as long as Roger was beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Shipping means using your anxiety to get into a character’s mind. This is obviously pre-Hot Space. Apologies to Roger’s exes. I’m sure they’re all lovely ladies. I’m just trying to make the plot happen. Remember: communication in relationship is important in real life, but in fiction, it makes interesting stuff happen.
> 
> For now I can still be found on [tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/) where my fanworks never show up on the proper tag(s).


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